Lost
by the hotpocket hunter
Summary: Jack's death was the last straw. Age 16, Alex has finally escaped MI6. He enters the SAS under an assumed identity. How will he get along with his new unit?
1. Chapter 1

Lost

Prequel to Found

This story is, in fact, about Alex. Don't worry, K-Unit shows up in the next installment. Do not skip this story because you think Alex is not a part of it. You just have to be smart enough to find him.

Gunfire tore through the air. Shouts of anger nearly drowned out a singular plaintive cry of pain, but the sound overrode everything else for Jaguar.

Bending low over his bleeding unit-mate, the two tucked behind a half-collapsed wall, something snapped.

Screw his cover. Bat was the only soldier in the SAS that actually bothered to acknowledge his existence. Scorpia wasn't going to take anyone away from him EVER AGAIN.

He stilled, expression smoothing to perfectly blank. He ignored the shout of his unit leader to 'get his arse in gear', breathing slowing to almost nothing.

They'd been utter bastards, all of S-Unit but Lemming. But that suddenly meant a lot less than before. He wouldn't let them die while he could still do something about it. And he COULD.

Lemming was endlessly cheerful, a total morning person, and always smiling. Now that smile was contorted into a grimace of pain as the young SAS member clutched his injured hand to his chest.

"Stay down," whispered Jaguar emotionlessly.

"Jackal."

The cold, steely tone made Jackal whip around. Jaguar rarely spoke, and never in such an unnaturally cold tone.

Warm brown eyes had hardened to a high, burnished gold.

"Lemming needs medical attention. The bullet hit an artery."

Jackal swore, then rapped out instructions into the radio.

Shark appeared soon after, eyes narrowing as he spotted Jaguar crouched protectively over his injured unitmate.

Jaguar moved aside gracefully, sliding along the wall like a shadow as Shark took his place beside Lemming.

His voice was flat as he spoke. "In 2 minutes and 15 seconds, R-Unit will slow down to reload. The enemy will attempt to take advantage of that." His eyes scoured the battle field. "J-Unit needs to withdraw, two of their members are injured. In 2 minutes, take Lemming and get the hell out of here. Jackal, Leopard, cover them." He knelt in the dirt, stripping down Lemming's gun. "Jackal, tell everyone else to be ready to get the injured out."

"We're under fire, dumbarse!" Jackal snapped.

"1 minute, 40 seconds," Jaguar counted emotionlessly. "Do what I said. There'll be a diversion."

Jackal wanted to protest, but a glance at Lemming changed his mind. He shouted the orders throught the radio.

Glancing over, his eye caught a splatter of red. Jaguar's fingers were bleeding, staining the mutilated weapon in his slick grasp. A few shards of shrapnel were wedged into the partially disassembled gun.

"Tell them to get down in the next 30 seconds," he ordered.

Jackal relayed the order quickly, spurred by the slight desperation beginning to filter into Jaguar's voice.

A slight lull in the gunfire left their ears ringing in the quiet.

Jaguar vaulted over the crumbling wall with an inadticulate war cry, streaking up across the no-man's-land and diving to the ground behind an overturned, burned out jeep.

Shark swore loudly, but pulled Lemming to his feet and took off.

A flash of silver caught the collective eye.

"Oh God," breathed Jackal.

Little Jaguar had built a bomb.

The makeshift device soared, glittering, over the edge of the enemies barricade.

The ensuing explosion was small but powerful, blowing out the front of their defenses.

Jaguar managed to push the jeep onto its side for better cover, waving up some more soldiers as they closed in on the enemy operatives.

The tables had turned, the Scorpia operatives losing thier organization. A few attempted to flee, but were incapacitated.

Jackal and Leopard were dug in behind the jeep on each side of Jaguar. Only a few operatives were left, but they fought with a desperate intensity. Morale was high, the injured having been removed from the field safely.

Leopard fired, clipping one operatives shoulder. He prepared to fire again, but slammed favedown into the dirt. He lay still for a moment, winded and disoriented, before realizing what had just happened.

Jaguar was still sprawled across his back, swearing inarticulately.

Leopard shook off his surprise. "What-"

He froze. Blood soaked through the leg of Jaguar's uniform.

"Shit."

Jaguar had just taken a bullet for him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Leopard shook off his surprise. "What-" _

_He froze. Blood soaked through the leg of Jaguar's uniform. _

_"Shit."_

_Jaguar had just taken a bullet for him._

Leopard slid out from under the smaller male carefully. He crouched low behind the jeep, pulling Jaguar out of the line of fire. He tugged the blonde into a sitting position, leaning him back against the jeep.

Jaguar was cooperative, but snatched his gun out of the dirt. The two sat silently for a moment, Leopard shaken, Jaguar shaking, before rejoining the fight.

Leopard couldn't help but detachedly notice the skill with which Jaguar fired, each shot a perfect hit.

**The fight was settled quickly after that, but only four of Scorpia's operatives were captured. The others had been killed or taken suicide tablets. Standard Scorpia procedure.**

As the SAS units got organized, some went to doublecheck the bodies, others removed their injured unitmates from the field, and still more went about inventoring the casualities.

Leopard slumped down against the hollowed out jeep with a sigh of relief, resting for a moment before turning to inspect Jaguar.

The smaller male was still tucked into a corner of the wreck, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Leopard moved towards him, noting his pained expression.

"C'mon kid, don't pass out on me now," he encouraged. "I'll have to haul your skinny arse back to camp."

He was rewarded by a slight twitch of Jaguar's lips.

"Let's see what I can do for ya, eh kid?"

Jaguar watched him quietly as he inspected the injury. Finally, Leopard leaned back on his heels.

"The bullet's in there pretty deep," he informed. "And there's alot of blood. I'm gonna wrap it up to slow down the bleeding, but I'm no medic. I'll get you to Shark."

Jaguar blinked, Leopard reading the uneasiness in his eyes.

"And if anyone starts giving you shit, I'll kick their bloody arses."

Jaguar outright laughed at that, a little confused but not willing to complain about the sudden camaraderie.

Leopard slid out of his jacket, wrapping it around Jaguar's injured leg.

"Just above the knee, brat," he informed. "I'm a little surprised you haven't passed out on me."

The blonde smirked slightly. "Not like I haven't been shot before," he snorted.

Leopard looked at him for a moment. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that with such a smug expression."

Jaguar had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Well it's true..." he mumbled.

"Most people aren't proud of it though," Leopard retorted dryly. "Now shut up so I can get you out of here."

Jaguar looked at him warily as he leaned closer. "Oh no," he started, mortified. "You are not carrying me."

Leopard snickered, scooping him up despite his protests. The two squabbled until Jaguar cut off in mid expletive with a gasp of pain.

"Shit, sorry," apologized Leopard quickly, adjusting his hold.

Jaguar let out the breath he'd been holding slowly. "Bloody hell..."

Leopard started off across the ruined streets while his burden was distracted.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," he muttered.

Jaguar huffed. "And I am? You didn't have to carry me bridal-style."

"Point taken," agreed Leopard, "but I actually did. You weren't going to be able to walk, and carrying you any other way would have put a lot of strain on your leg."

Jaguar mumbled something unintelligible, presumably swearing in something other than English.

As Leopard approached the hastily set up camp, a couple of soldiers jeered at them.

"Hey! Look at the runt!"

"Aw, does the little baby not know how to walk on his own?"

"What happened, twist your ankle running away?"

At the last comment, Leopard snapped. Jaguar had tensed up in his arms, refusing to make eye contact and shaking slightly. The kid seriously didn't need this shit right now.

"Actually," Leopard snapped, "he got shot in the leg when he tackled me out of the way of a sniper shot."

The effect was obvious, total silence reigning. Leopard stalked past. "Chew on that, arseholes."

He ducked into the med tent, ignoring the whispers breaking out behind them. "Shark!" he called. He figured Jaguar would be more comfortable being treated by a medic from the same unit.

"Leopard!" Shark hurried over, confusion evident as he caught sight of them.

"How's Lemming?" Jaguar asked, tilting his head to look at the man.

Startled, Shark did his best to respond. "A lot better than he could've been. That crazy stunt you pulled meant he got out in minutes, and got treatment a hell of a lot sooner than he would've otherwise."

Leopard frowned slightly as he felt the tension begin to drain from Jaguar's body. "Keep awake brat," he reminded.

Jaguar shook off the urge to relax. "Yeah, yeah I know," he responded tiredly.

Shark noticed the jacket tied around his leg, face shifting to one of concern. "He's hurt?" he demanded.

Leopard nodded. "Caught one right in the leg. That's why we're here."

"You're okay?" was the next question.

Leopard nodded, smiling a little. "I'm fine."

Shark sighed in relief, before directing them to an empty corner of the tent.


	3. Chapter 3

2 hours, forty stitches, and major dose of pain meds later, Jaguar was sleeping on a cot in the commandeered building selected for a temporary barracks. All of S-Unit were there, each unit having been assigned a room. Leopard shifted uncomfortably on his cot, listening to his unit-mates' conversation.

Finally, Jackal got fed up. "For God's Sake Leopard, what the bloody hell's got your knickers in a twist?"

Leopard blinked in mild surprise. "It's that obvious?"

"We're your unit," offered Lemming sleepily. "Even if it's not obvious we'll be able to tell. Units are family."

"That's just it," murmured Leopard. "He's not."

Shark leaned forward. "What are you talking about?"

"Jaguar," he supplied.

Several puzzled looks were cast his way. "What about him?" demanded Jackal.

"He's in our unit, but we've been treating him like shit."

"So?" Jackal didn't seem particularly bothered.

"So," snapped Leopard, "he never talks with the other units, except occasionally that weirdo Chameleon, everyone treats him like shit because they assume he's some kind of spoiled rich brat, he trains separately from us most of the time, says 'classified' like it's some kind of religious thing, and took a bloody bullet in the leg for me!" he panted for air after the tirade. "I feel so much better now..."

Lemming looked at him thoughtfully. "You always do after a rant."

Leopard glared halfheartedly. "My point still stands. And I'd like to add that he pretty much laughed off getting shot."

Jackal scowled. "Where exactly are you going with this? I'm not phsycic."

Leopard huffed in frustration. "Lemming!" he demanded. Lemming was the communications expert for a reason.

Lemming sighed. "Leopard thinks we should stop being such arses. It's messing up our unit, it's not fair to the kid, and Leopard's starting to like the little guy."

Leopard sighed in relief. Ranting, he could do. Very well, in fact. Communication? Not so much.

Jackal was dense, Leopard had no communication skills, and Shark was a mother hen. Lemming had to do the actual communicating for all of them. For example, in Jackal, 'I'm fine' actually meant, 'I'm hurt badly but too damn stubborn to quit'.

Shark sighed. "We might not get a chance."

"What do you mean?" asked Lemming.

Shark ran his hands through his hair. "With an injury like that, he won't be cleared for training, let alone combat. He'll get sent home. If he doesn't recover well, he might not ever be able to go back into service."

The silence was deafening.

Leopard swore, punching the wall. "_Damnit!_ If I'd been paying attention-"

"It was a sniper, Leopard," interrupted Jackal. "There was no way you could've known."

"But he did! Jaguar did! And he got hurt because I didn't!"

Leopard was on his feet now, visibly distressed. Lemming slid off his cot, moving over to Leopard and pushing him back down gently before sitting beside him. "What's done is done, Leo. It's not your fault, and the kid might be just fine."

Leopard put his head in his hands. "Sorry, guys. I just..."

"Yeah, it's the same for all of us," agreed Shark. "But the mission is over, and we'll be able to leave soon."

Leopard sighed. "I just feel so useless..."

Jackal stood, putting his hand on Leopard's shoulder. "It'll be fine," he offered quietly.

Leopard braced himself, managing a smile. "If any of you ever die on me, you'd better have a damn good reason and a way back."

Jackal chuckled, ruffled Lemming's hair, and started to head out of the room.

"Where are you going?" asked Lemming curiously.

Jackal paused in the doorway. "I'm gonna go talk to the people in charge of this mess. See what I can do about the kid."

"What 'bout me?" asked a groggy voice. Jaguar shifted on the mattress, carefully pulling himself into a sitting position.

Leopard leapt up to help him, ending up seated on the smaller male's cot supporting him.

Apparently Jaguar was still pretty doped up. He leaned back against Leopard, Lemming joining them. The cot became rather crowded by the three of them.

Jackal moved back into the room. "I was going to see how soon we could get you out of here."

"Doesn' matt'r," he responded, slurring heavily. "Got nowhere t'go an'way..."

Jackal crouched beside the cot, frowning. "What do you mean, kid?"

Jaguar was seriously doped up, and Jackal was going to take full advantage of it.

"'m?"

"What do you mean when you say you've got nowhere to go?" Jackal repeated.

"No house," he answered sleepily. "No fam'ly."

Jackal scowled worriedly. "How old are you?"

"Um..." Jaguar looked a little puzzled. "17?"

"You don't know?" asked Leopard, eyebrows furrowing.

"My ID says 17," Jaguar offered.

"Your ID," stated Jackal flatly. There was something odd about that phrase... His eyes widened as it hit him.

"It's a fake ID," he breathed.

The others looked at him like he was crazy, but he ignored them, focusing on his new theory. "How old are you really, though?" he asked, keeping his voice light and curious.

"Almos' 16." The blonde frowned then. "I wasn' 'sposed t'tell you that."

"How come?" asked Leopard, adopting the same tone.

Jackal nodded in approval. Leopard caught on quick.

"Secret," Jaguar decided, eyes clearing of the drugged haze slightly.

Leopard frowned at the distress in Jaguar's tone, subconciously comparing the image to a similar memory before forcing it out of his head. He wouldn't think about him. He couldn't. He did, however, start to run a hand through the smaller males hair. "Alright Jaguar, you can keep your secret," he assured.

He was satisfied to feel Jaguar relax, but startled when he leaned into the touch.

Shark sighed, watching. "He seems really starved for attention. The kind of drugs he's on remove any inhibitions, mess up his thinking process. He'll probably be pretty upset tomorrow, and embarassed as hell, if he remembers any of this."

Leopard jumped slightly as the blonde buried his face in his shoulder with a soft noise.

"We should probably let him get some sleep," decided Shark. "He did get shot."

Leopard flinched. "Don't remind me."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Didn't like last chappy that much... Hope to be doing better soon. This is the first plotbunny I've been able to focus on for more than 24 hours.

Jemm: Thanks, I apparently left out the explanation to that. Lemming does communications, but took a course in phsychology for 'fun'. There was supposed to a joke on that, but somehow it got left out...

Is this moving to fast/slow?

Enjoy!

Jaguar woke up slowly, leg throbbing. He groaned softly.

"Jaguar?"

Whose voice was that? Wait...

"Leopard?" he rasped, eyes fluttering open.

A blurry form moved into his field of vision. He could feel something pressed against his lips.

"It's just water," reassured Shark from near by, noting the slight scrunch of his nose.

Jaguar drank slowly, careful not to make himself sick or choke. When the cup was empty, it was taken away.

He blinked again, working to clear his vision. He didn't recognize the ceiling.

"We're shipping out," explained Leopard. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Getting the pain meds," he responded, eyebrows furrowing. "Everything after that is..."

"They probably gave you a little too much," guessed Shark. "You're a lot smaller than the rest of us."

Jaguar glared absent-mindedly. "Where exactly are we?"

"The back of a truck!" chirped Lemming excitedly.

Jaguar jumped. He hadn't noticed Lemming. Moving carefully, he turned his head. He was in the back of a truck, explaining the humming and vibration. More specifically, he was lying on some sort of blanket on the floor.

He took inventory of his body quickly. A little cold, slight headache from pain meds, leg hurt like hell, but otherwise okay.

Jaguar shifted, then stilled. He didn't have the energy to sit up.

Shark, ever the medic, asked him, "How do you feel?"

"Tired," was the immediate response.

"Does your leg hurt?"

"I've had worse," he dismissed, cursing himself after for revealing information.

"Scale of 1-10," persisted Shark worriedly.

Jaguar blinked. "Why do you care?"

The entirety of S-Unit flinched at the innocent(ish) question.

"Look, brat," started Jackal. "We screwed up. I get it. We get it. It's not happening again."

"I could get Leopard," Jaguar argued, "But why the rest of you?"

"I never really hated you anyway," offered Lemming cheerily.

"Uh, thanks, I think..."

"None of us actually hated you," clarified Leopard. "But we probably shouldn't have ignored you."

Jaguar sighed. "It's fine. My last unit leader actively tried to get me binned."

"Last unit?" asked Jackal.

Jaguar's eyes flashed with fear for a second. He'd slipped up again. What the hell was wrong with him?

Leopard was quick to intervene. "Chill Jag, you don't have to tell us anything."

Jaguar exhaled slowly. "Really?"

"Yeah," agreed Lemming. "It's obviously a touchy subject. You don't have to say anything more than you're comfortable with."

"Thanks. That means a lot more than you probably realize..." Jaguar seemed slightly shaken, but managed a weak smile.

Leopard redirected the conversation, trying to avoid treacherous terrain. "1-10 Jag," he reminded.

"Out of... What? What I've ever felt before or what I think I can feel?"

"What you've felt before," answered Shark. "I need to get an idea of your pain threshhold."

"Hmmm..." Jaguar seemed to think for a minute. "Probably about a six, the meds are wearing off."

Shark jerked in shock, but fired off another question. "What would you class a broken bone?"

"A clean break would be anywhere from a 1 to a 4. It depends on the bone and the number of breaks. "

Shark, though concerned, decided not to pry. "Alright, that's pretty high. I'm not gonna ask. Do you have any conditions, allergies, or injuries that we should know of?"

"Um, just to a couple of more violent sedatives, although that's probably in part because of my bodyweight."

Shark hummed thoughtfully, but made no comment other than, "We've got a ways to go, you should get some rest."

S-Unit, now including Jaguar, conversed quietly for a while. Jaguar drifted off awhile later, feeling oddly secure with Leopard's hovering presence.

Leopard watched the younger male sleep, relaxing with each rise and fall of his chest.

"You should get some sleep too, Leopard," ordered Jackal quietly. "He's gonna be fine."

Leopard stayed put, undecided.

"If you don't you'll end up in the infirmary," threatened Shark.

Leopard blanched, but scrambled under the covers. "Alright, alright!"

Leopard's hatred of hospitals was well-known in Brecon Beacons.

Jackal chuckled as Leopard began to make fake snoring noises, then cuffed him over the head. "Shut up and got to sleep already."

"We should probably get some sleep too," commented Shark.

"Awww~" whined Lemming. "Bed time already?"

Shark snorted. "Don't be such a smartass. Sleep. Now."

Despite his complaints, Lemming complied soon after.

Jackal, naturally a light sleeper, was last to go. His final thoughts before sleep claimed him were about his unit's youngest member. What the bloody hell was a 15-year-old doing in the SAS?


End file.
